Isis
by kitkatritrat
Summary: TOS fans-you may recall that episode with Gary Seven and his cat Isis. This is my story with Isis and Spock in the 2009 verse. Spock is slightly out of character, and I've always had a hard time writing Kirk, but please read and tell me what you think so far. Forewaring- this may turn into a Spock/Chapel, so if you despise that pairing, don't get attached to my story.
1. Chapter 1

I leave my property on Terra to my nephew, Henry Grayson, to do with as he sees fit. All the material possessions on the property, with the exception of the house itself, I leave to my son Spock. –excerpt from Amanda Grayson's will

"Father, I wish for you to have mother's possessions to take with you to New Vulcan. I can have little use for them in Starfleet."

"Logical, my son. I will do as you ask. However, your mother did wish for you to have those things. Go through them, and take anything you want. And if you ever want anything of hers, you have but to come to New Vulcan and reclaim it."

Spock traveled to his mother's home on Earth. It had been her home growing up, and was left to her upon her parent's death. Amanda had always thought that the house should have gone to her brother, since he actually lived on Earth. For that reason, she had left the property to her nephew.

"It is agreeable to see you, Henry," Spock greeted.

"It's nice to see you too, cuz. I only wish it were under better circumstances. Next week everything will be packed on a shuttle for New Vulcan. Take what you want, and let me know if you need a hand with anything. I'll be working in the yard."

"Thank you very much, cousin."

"It is unnecessary to thank logic, Spocky," Henry said affectionately.

"You would be correct."

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"You're always welcome."

Spock started in the kitchen. All he took was a few goblets and some silverware, figuring that they would come in handy sometime. They looked like delicate crystal one might serve wine out of, but they were made of sturdy glass. He remembered that his mother used to serve tapioca pudding in a similar sort of glass. He also found an old packet of wildflower seeds. They were always looking for pretty blossoms in the botany labs. He took them as well.

Next he went to the living room. He took a collection of old holovids. His captain was always looking for new entertainment. He also took some music books, wondering if he could play any of the guitar songs on his lyre.

From the bathroom he took a handmade pottery toothbrush holder. He could tell from the initials on the bottom that his mother had made it. It was shaped and painted like an ocean wave.

In his mother's old bedroom was a stack of antique paper books. Spock perused the titles. They were mostly classics from earth's nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and were quite valuable. Spock kept them all, recalling fond memories of his mother reading him such stories. Under her bed were stacks of notebooks filled with her childish sketches, stories, and poetry. Spock left them, knowing his father would find them amusing.

From the guest bedroom Spock took several quilts. Although he had adjusted the temperature in his cabin, Spock still found Starfleet-issue bedding to be too thin. These blankets looked quite warm. He also took some civilian clothes that appeared to have been his grandfather's, especially sweaters and jackets, along with a few pairs of jeans. They were old-fashioned, but were quite comfortable.

Spock went outside to find Henry, but looked down when he heard a noise. A kitten brushed up against his leg, purring contentedly. "Henry!" he called, "There is a stray cat on your property."

Henry came and looked at the scrawny kitten. "Spock, I have no place for a cat. We can take it to the animal control center."

Spock looked at it closely. It was as black as night, with yellow-green eyes. It rubbed against his ankles, looking up at him expectantly. Spock clearly heard the words, "I like you. You smell nice. I want to stay with you forever."

"That will not be necessary, Henry. I will take the kitten-"

"Isis," the voice interrupted.

Isis, Spock mentally acknowledged, "-with me," he finished.

"You smell good, too," Spock later told the cat, who had curled up on the bunk in Spock's quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim Kirk whistled a cheery tune as he strutted down the hall, occasionally humming and snapping his fingers to some song stuck in his head. So much had happened, but Jim had never been one to let his circumstances dictate his attitude. He waited at Spock's door.

"Enter."

"Hey Spock, d'ya mind playing chess in your quarters or mine this time? There's a tons in of people in the rec room flocked to hear your girlfriend's mel**_odious_** singing voice. Can't imagine why," Jim shuddered, as if trying to rid his mind of the memory.

"That would be satisfactory. I assume you brought a board with you?"

"Yeah, I'll set it up. I get to be black!"

"You do seem to have a fixation on evil symbolism."

"It's cool, Spock. Being a bad boy is a total chick-magnet. I mean, look at you! Case in point."

While Jim acted casual like being in Spock's quarters was something he did every day, he had to admit to himself that he was positively fascinated. He was getting a rare insight into the person that was Mr. Spock. On a bookshelf rested pretty, expensive-looking glasses, as well as shelves filled with books. Jim had always put Spock down as a PADD kind of person. After all, they were much more efficient than storing stacks upon stacks of books. And there was a collection of…ANTIQUE HOLOVIDS?! At this point, Jim was having a hard time swallowing an overwhelming surge of envy. On the walls were fixed antique weapons, and in the corner was a musical instrument, with stacks of music books by it. And there were random pieces of pottery smattered about, including an ocean wave shaped….. toothbrush holder? Even the bed he was sitting on was fascinating. The bed cover was a quilt with a 3-D looking staircase pattern. It all sounded kind of girly, but the antique weapons and everything's' earthy colors (not to mention the sweltering heat) made the room a tasteful blend of sophisticated, masculine, and really, really awesome. Jim's own quarters were pretty Spartan except for apple cores randomly scattered in various stages of decomposition.

_Funny smell… What is that funny smell? Spock?_

_Do not be alarmed, Isis. It is my captain. You may call him Jim._

_Apples and Metal and Soap and Grease….. Very funny smell._

_An apt description, my kitten. Would you like to meet him? It is logical that you become comfortable with him, as this will most likely not be the only time he is here._

_Yes. I will greet the Jim._

"Checkmate, Captain."

"I am determined to beat you. One of these days, it will happen. It will. Spock, do you hear that humming noise?"

"Affirmative. The noise you are hearing is my cat."

"I'm sorry, don't think I heard you right. Did you say something about a cat?"

"Yes, Jim," Spock replied, before a jet-black bundle of fur proceeded to jump onto the bed. "Such charming creatures, the Terran feline. Her name is Isis."

At this point Kirk started laughing uncontrollably, until tears were literally running down his face and his ribs hurt. "Oh Spock," Kirk said under his breath, wiping his eyes and giggling a little more for good measure, "The man has a cat! A cat! Wait until Bones hears about this." Isis hissed at Jim fiercely. "Lively thing, your…..kitten."

"Isis has decided that she does not care for your scent."

"What did you just say, Spock?" This day was getting weirder and weirder.

"Captain, I am certain you have heard of the Vulcan capacity for telepathy."

"Sure-how is that releva- oh. Are you telling me that you are able to communicate with animals?"

"It is a strange phenomenon. I am accustomed to the ability to sense an animal's state of well-being, but never before has an animal transmitted its thoughts to me. Thoughts that display intelligence and mental growth, I might add."

"You pulling my leg?"

"If that is a human idiom, I am unacquainted with it."

"Gosh, the man is serious! Spock, you realize that I'm going to report your….unusual behavior to Dr. McCoy-"

"And he will evaluate my mental health and most likely run invasive tests on my cat. I am aware. It is completely unnecessary, as I am in perfect command of all my functions, not to mention a misuse of time and effort, but I will submit. As will Isis."

"O**_kay…_**.I'll go let Bones know," Jim replied, completely weirded out and rather concerned about Spock's sanity (or lack thereof).


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Yeah, I don't know how I'm going to do Uhura and Isis interacting yet. If anyone has a stroke of brilliance, let me know in a review (I don't do PM's). I'd be appreciative. Sorry for the really short updates. I'll try to do more at once, but my schedule is too busy for much more than 6-8 hundred word spurts here and there. Thanks for all the support!

McCoy was having a hard time containing his laughter. "So, to recap, you are telling me that our uptight, unemotional First Officer is delusional. That he even owns a cat is ludicrous, but you'd have me believe that he is having intelligent telepathic communication with a damn kitten."

"No Bones, you weren't listening. I'd have you believe that he believes he can communicate telepathically with his cat. Before you ask-" Jim started, running down his list of McCoy's usual incredulous responses, "- I'm sober, it's not April Fool's Day, I only derive a slight amount of pleasure from wasting your time, and believe it or not, I actually do have better things to be doing right now. Look, I'm really worried about Spock. Could you just do a routine physical? And telepathic or not, his cat is downright evil! She nearly hissed my ear off."

"I'm a doctor, damnit, not a veterinarian! Fine, send Spock and his demon kitten down to Sickbay. I've been meaning to schedule Spock's physical anyway. But you'll owe me a favor." _Or a dozen, all told_, he added to himself. Half expecting the entire thing to be an elaborate joke, McCoy began prepping Sickbay.

_He smells_ _good. Better than the Jim. It is harder to describe._

_Yes, Isis, he does smell better than the captain. He smells like mint, antiseptic, and alcohol._

_Almost as good as you, Spock. He is McCoy?_

_Yes, that is Dr. McCoy. Do not be alarmed, he will not harm you, although be wary of the pointed object in his hand. It is called a hypospray, and he uses it quite liberally._

"So….." McCoy started, in a tone of voice he would use to humor a six-year-old, "I hear you can communicate telepathically with your cat." McCoy snickered. "What does he have to say about me?"

"Firstly, my cat is female. Her name is Isis. Secondly, she was comparing your scent to Captain Kirk's and mine."

Oh boy. Maybe Spock was delusional_._ "So, how do I compare?"

_Better than rotten apples and insufferableness but not as good as Spock. You are also warmer than McCoy is, Spock._

"Would you like her exact words?"

"Sure, what's the harm?"

"She said, 'Better than rotten apples and insufferableness but not as good as Spock.'"

McCoy nearly choked on his coffee laughing. "He does smell like rotten apples sometimes!"

"So Bones, what's the verdict? Is he sane? Please tell me he's okay."

"Jim, as crazy as it sounds, that cat is extraordinary. I've never seen anything like it. The brain scans I took show a high capacity for intelligence. Spock tells me she now communicates on a toddler's level, but within a week she should have comparable communication skills to yours, not that that's terribly hard to achieve. She did appear to have increased brain activity in the portion of her brain that controls telepathy. And Spock seems healthy and mentally fit. There is no reason not to believe that Isis is telepathic, especially as you watch the two interact. It's downright eerie."

"You seriously think..?

"Yes Jim, yes I do."

"So, I know you and Spock don't always see eye to eye on things, and the cat is Spock's. Did it try to attack you or anything?"

"It's a she. Her name is Isis. The cat has a mind of her own, and doesn't think the way Spock does. At the end of the appointment Spock told me that she wanted me to know I'm her new second-favorite person."

"What does she think about me?"

"That you're insufferable and that you smell like rotten apples."

"Astute, isn't she?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N For those of you who had been reading my story, I'm sorry it was delayed. I did finish the story, but I'm not entirely satisfied with how it ends. Updates will probably be a little slow (and chapters a little short), as I'm not sure what I want to do with it yet. I can't seem to end it right! Anyways, thanks for all the support and I hope you enjoy! And no, neither Uhura nor Gary Seven will be making much of an appearance, although I gave Uhura some consideration and several paragraphs. It would be cool to read someone else's story with a Gary Seven appearance, though. This will not be a Spock/Uhura, although it is possible it could end up Spock/Chapel. I haven't made up my mind. I do like Uhura, but I think she's too career-minded to not only date a Vulcan superior officer, but also a single parent. I think Chapel is more family-oriented. Anyways, to my story.

* * *

_Spock,_ Isis thought excitedly, _I learned how to do something special today._

_When my shift is over, I look forward to seeing it_, Spock thought in reply.

Ten minutes earlier….

Isis walked about in Spock's quarters, desperately looking for something to do. Accidently stepping on his computer, it activated and came to life, the sound startling Isis nearly to the point of falling off the desk. Sure, she had seen Spock using it, but that didn't make it any less frightening. Deciding she'd had enough of a fright, Isis glided off the desk to look for something more interesting. She came to Spock's closet and pawed at the clothes inside. She didn't like the feel of most of the materials; they snagged on her claws too easily. Although, there was one she didn't seem to have a problem with. It was blue and coarse. Isis would ask Spock the name of it later_. Absurd- looking things, pants. Fur is quite sufficient for me_. But all of a sudden, Isis wondered what it would be like to wear pants, or maybe a dress-skirt thing like the lady Spock talked to all the time. She soon thought the better of that. _Nope, too cold_. But the pants, especially ones made from the coarse blue material, were definitely something to think about. She imagined herself as a humanoid. Her hair would be long and black, with little wispies in the front. Her eyes would be blue-gray, like the color of Spock's ocean wave toothbrush holder. Her skin would be a pale-white, like the milk she so loved to drink. Her lips would be a light pink. Isis knew that most humans preferred darker colored lips, but red reminded her of the apples that Jim ate. And Jim wasn't nice. So her lips would be pink. Her eyelashes would be long and dark, like whiskers. Her eyebrows would slant like Spock's, or be even more slanted. She loved slanted eyebrows. She couldn't decide on what her ears would look like. Either like Spock's, or just like her own. Well, why not both? It was decided then. Isis almost imagined she could be a human. And then, like a flash, it was as she had wanted. She beheld herself in the mirror, butt-naked. She was smaller than most of the humans she had seen. Perhaps it was due to her age. She pulled on the coarse blue pants, but found with disappointment that they were too big to stay on her. She wore one of Spock's uniform shirts instead. "He will be surprised," she had the distinct pleasure of being able to say out loud. She practiced talking until Spock's shift was over.

"Well, are you surprised?"

In Spock's quarters, on his bed, lay a little girl, no older than six, wrapped in one of his blue uniform shirts. "Isis, how are you transformed? I do not understand how this is possible."

"I thought it would be fun to walk around like you do, and to be able to talk out loud, and to wear pants. I almost felt like I could. I imagined what I would look like. And then, all of a sudden, it was just like what I wanted. This is so much fun!"

Spock was slightly flabbergasted. This was no illusion. Isis was real before his eyes, in the form of a beautiful humanoid girl. She even spoke with a slight lisp, which was unspeakably cute. Her eyes were grey-blue and her hair silky black, styled with light bangs in the front. Her eyebrows slanted upwards even more dramatically than a Vulcan's, and she had velvety tufted cat ears on the top of her head like the kitten she truly was, not to mention pointed elfin ears. Her lips were a light pink and her nose was long and delicate. She was the most adorable thing, and Spock felt himself becoming paternally protective of her.

"Yes, I am very much surprised. You have always surprised me by doing things that I presume to be impossible.

"You do not mind me being like this, do you?" Isis asked, suddenly feeling insecure.

"I will cherish you in any form, always. It is logical that we now go to visit Dr. McCoy, to insure that you are suffering no ill effects from this transformation. First, let us replicate some clothes for you that will fit properly."

"Very well," Isis said, looking up at him like he was her whole universe, "May I have the special blue pants?"

Spock was confused for half a moment, before noticing his blue jeans discarded on the ground. "Yes, you may wear denim pants."

"And a denim shirt?"

"Of course."

Isis and Spock got many strange looks heading to sickbay. After all, as far as everyone was aware, there were no children aboard the _Enterprise, _let alone one so obviously familiar with the First Officer. After a very awkward explanation to Dr. McCoy, and a rather awkward visit all in all, McCoy asked to speak with Spock alone for a bit. They left Isis with Nurse Chapel, discovering the wonder that was processed sugar after having been offered a lollipop. She was quite happy.

"Spock, your role as Isis's caretaker has just changed dramatically. I mean, not only is she obviously an intelligent being, now she will be able to communicate with anyone, not just telepaths. She was born on Earth, so she should have the advantages and rights of an Earth citizen, human or not. Apart from the eyebrows and ears and heightened senses, her biology is very similar to a human's. I mean, her DNA is recognized by the computer as human. I think she might have been genetically engineered. So Spock, what I'm asking is, are you prepared to take on the responsibilities of raising Isis? Can you do that? Do you even want to do that?"

"I will care for her. She has no one but me, and wants no other but me. She chose me. I am prepared to take the responsibility for her upbringing, whatever it may mean to my career or personal life."

"Wow you sound really mature about the whole thing. I respect that. Ok, I'll start the paper work to get Isis recognized as an Earth citizen, and by rights of adoption a citizen of New Vulcan, and you can consider yourself a daddy. Oh, you get to figure out how to tell Jim. I doubt he'll appreciate his First Officer going on paternity leave."

"I would like to raise Isis on this ship with me, if I would be permitted to. I am not aware of any Starfleet policy that would prevent me from doing so, although I have not researched it. I will take responsibility for her education."

"Well, that's something we can discuss with the captain. I doubt he would object personally, but he'll know better what you'll be allowed to do."

"I will see if he is available for such a conversation now. I would prefer to have this settled as soon as may be."

"Ask him to come to Sickbay. He'll probably want me to show him all of Isis's charts. And Spock-"

"Yes Doctor?"

"Your girl is darn-right adorable."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N I really appreciate everyone's reviews! It's nice to know that people are reading and enjoying my story. Thanks for all the feedback. And yes, I'll try to have a little more excitement in the plot, to give you readers something to worry about;) I'm not hating on Uhura in this chapter, just wanted Chapel to have her own opinion. I think I'll have Spock and Uhura breaking up in the next chapter. I've never been through a break-up before, so it probably won't be all that realistic, but I tried. Just saying, don't have high expectations for it.

* * *

"Come with you to Sickbay? Sure, I'm free now. Why?" answered Jim to his first officer, who was standing awkwardly outside his door.

"Because we need to know if I can live here," said a small voice coming from between Spock's legs.

"Well, hi. I didn't see you there. Who might you be?" Kirk asked the adorable little girl hiding behind Spock's tall frame. He leaned down to her eye-level.

Isis hissed at him as fiercely as a six-year-old girl with a lisp is able to.

Oh no. "Don't tell me that's-"

"I would prefer to explain in Sickbay, Captain."

So Spock, Jim, and Isis walked down to Sickbay, Isis and Spock with cat-like grace, making Jim feel clumsy and awkward. Darned felids.

He and Dr. McCoy were being a little flippant about the situation, and Jim could tell it was starting to make Spock uncomfortable (but it was so funny!). He sobered up and got to business. "So, since Isis is an intelligent life-form, humanoid, and was born on earth, she is technically a citizen with all the rights that human children have, correct?"

"Yes."

"And I, as captain, need to let you know whether she would be allowed to remain on board. Frankly, I have no clue. If she can't, Spock?"

"If such is the case, then I will not hesitate to resign from Starfleet and find a more suitable place to raise Isis."

"Okay, I really don't have a problem with Isis being on board as long as she's being educated and she doesn't interfere with the smooth operation of this ship. I doubt she would, you seem well-equipped to keep that from happening. I guess I need to find out what the higher-ups think. Bones, do you think there will be any issues with getting Isis citizenship and all that paper stuff? And Spock legally adopting her?"

"I don't anticipate too many problems, but you never know. They'll probably want to see Isis, so next time we're near a Starbase; I would probably need to set up a video conference or something."

"Okay, is that all for now?" Spock looked ever so slightly…sheepish.

"There will be much gossip and speculation about Isis. I think a ship-wide announcement would alleviate any undue distraction. However, I would prefer that Isis's special abilities not be public knowledge, but that the crew only knows her as my adopted daughter. Will that be satisfactory?"

"I think that would be alright. What about you, Bones?" Jim smiled. It was a very reasonable and insightful request, and McCoy would be forced to agree with Spock. Jim only hoped he did so gracefully.

"I agree with Spock. I think that we should do the upmost to be discreet about Isis and preserve her privacy. The fewer people who are involved, the better. I think I can trust the people I'll be contacting about Isis's citizen status to be discreet."

"Good, we can make the crew announcement tomorrow." Jim said, and looked pointedly at Spock. "I suggest you start making a story up about where Isis came from."

Spock had a few ideas going through his very efficient mind, although he wasn't yet sure how to explain the tufted cat ears. A genetic anomaly? Spock had noticed that, when bombarded with the proper amount of esoteric "sciencey" words, coupled with a somewhat plausible explanation, humans tended to accept situations like this without a second thought. A comparison to human anatomy would be in order. Perhaps he could liken the ears to the Vulcan equivalent of being born with excess digits or webbed fingers.

"And this is a tricorder. If I scan you with," said Nurse Chapel, demonstrating, "Like so- I can tell all sorts of different things about you."

Isis had made a new second favorite person. Christine was smart and nice and she smelled like chocolate chip cookies. And she didn't mind answering Isis's bajillion questions about everything. "Christine, who is the lady that Spock is always talking to? I was going to ask him, but I forgot."

"Her name is Nyota Uhura. She's the Communications Officer on the bridge."

"Is she nice?"

Christine didn't want to answer that, because personally, she didn't really like Uhura. They didn't have a lot in common, and Uhura had snubbed her a few times accidently and wasn't interested in befriending the nurse. She wanted Isis to form her own opinion. "Why don't you ask your dad to introduce you? I'm sure he would be willing to."

"My…dad?"

"Dad, daddy, father, papa…" Isis looked confused. "You know, your guardian, someone who takes care of you."

"I just call him Spock."

"That's fine, but why don't you try out one of those names, see how you like it. I recommend Daddy."

"I'll try that."

"What did you do while I spoke with Dr. McCoy?" questioned Spock. Isis was always doing something she considered to be fun, and even when she wasn't, she described her boring experiences in a fun way.

"I was talking to Christine. She's really nice and she smells even better than McCoy." Isis' mile-a-minute pace slowed. "Spock, what should I call you?"

Spock was rather confused, but answered nonetheless. "You may call me whatever you wish, although my name would be the most logical choice."

"Christine called you my dad. She said maybe I should call you Daddy."

Spock frowned perceptibly, thinking unkind thoughts about Nurse Chapel. Any human in the room would have called him on it. However, Isis was an oblivious child and looked at him expectantly for approval. Spock had really walked right into this. "If you wish to, you may, but I am concerned that such a term would be distracting to my colleagues. If you must address me as a paternal figure, I recommend _Sa-mekh._"

"Okay, Daddy."

Spock plotted his deception, a ruse with which he was entirely uncomfortable. However, the lie was logical, and Spock had found from experience that when he needed to be, he was a rather convincing liar. They had recently stopped on the New Vulcan colony to deliver supplies. Perhaps she could be some sort of orphaned relative? But then, why couldn't any other Vulcan take her in? Perhaps-yes, this could do- she could be a cousin that developed a very strong bond to him- the death of her parents and loss of her planet overwhelmed her- he was the only person she still had a family bond with- her psychological growth was stunted-he was the only person who could bring her out of her shell….Something like that. He would work out the details early in the morning before his shift, when he wasn't tired and slightly overwhelmed. Isis had remained in her human form, but she was still snuggled up against him tightly like she usually was. Only now, she wasn't a fist-sized lump of fur, she was much bigger and fit against him differently. Not better, not worse, just different. He snuggled back against her slightly and soon fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N I don't know how much interest there still is in this story, considering I let it sit for like, six months, (not that there was much then;) but I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it. I've never experienced a breakup first-hand, and most of my friend's break-ups included badly-worded text messages and cheating boyfriends, but I did my best. For some reason, this was absurdly fun to write. Again, sorry for completely ignoring this story. I offer no excuse, as I doubt anyone cares, but I think I'll keep working on this story throughout the summer._

* * *

"A kid? When did this happen?" Nyota demanded. The discussion had started out peacefully enough, Spock saying he needed to tell her something. She hadn't expected the something to be so…big. Not to mention completely out of the blue. Spock had only just told her he had a cat. What was happening to him?

"Most recently, I assure you. It was a complicated and unforeseen situation."

"Tell me about…What did you say her name was?" Spock had adopted a Vulcan girl. Was this in an attempt to alleviate his grief? Was she somehow not supporting him enough? Even if she wasn't, he should have discussed this with her.

"Isis. She is my first cousin. Her father was killed in the Narada attack, and her mother succumbed to grief. My aunt and uncle were closely bonded." That last part, at least, was true. His uncle died on Vulcan along with several of his cousins. His aunt was off-planet, but she had died of a broken bond. "She is six years old and highly intelligent, although she is not familiar with earth culture. She was sheltered. I am her only bonded family. I am in the process of officially adopting her." In a way 'I am her only bonded family' was also true. Isis had no family that he was aware of, and wanted none but him.

"Spock, I'm your girlfriend. Surely it must have occurred to you that I would want to be involved in a decision like this. I mean, I didn't even know that you wanted kids, and then you just go and adopt one out of the blue. I'm a part of your life. People date because maybe someday they want to get married or something. I'm in Starfleet. It's hard enough to date Spock the Vulcan and superior officer, let alone Spock the single parent. Are you sure about this?"

"I was forced into a decision and I did not have the opportunity to discuss it with you. This entire process happened very quickly. I regret that I could not involve you in the decision. But in any event, my decision would have been the same." Nyota was wonderful, but she didn't need to know about Isis, because he knew that she would not want to be her caretaker. She had wonderful ambitions for her future, and she was poised to succeed. He did not want to jeopardize her career like he was jeopardizing his.

"Am I just supposed to accept that? I'm young, Spock, and my career is important to me. I don't see a place for a serious relationship where a kid is involved; I'm not looking to settle down. I want to have a long, successful career in Starfleet."

"Nyota, in adopting Isis I am potentially risking my career and personal relationships. I care about you, but I do not expect you to follow me."

"Why is this kid so important to you? Why do you need to be the one to look after her? Why is she more important to you than me?" That last question was a bit unfair (after all, Isis was his first cousin, and he had probably known Isis since she was born). Still, it was a genuine question. Nyota always thought that she and Spock had identical priorities: Starfleet, each other. He had never expressed much devotion to his immediate family, let alone his extended.

"I do not know how she came to mean so much to me, but I am the only one who can help her. She chose me. She would not have anyone besides me." No lies. Spock was relieved to be able to be mostly honest with Nyota. She deserved it.

He still hadn't explained to her satisfaction what was so important about Isis, but she doubted he could. His mind seemed entirely made up. She was saddened he could so easily set aside their relationship, that he wouldn't fight for it. She supposed she could compromise somehow, but her career was too important to her. Maybe she should be disappointed that she could also so easily set aside their relationship. "So that's it then. You choose her, and I choose my career. Somehow I imagined us having a happier ending." Cliché, but Spock wouldn't notice.

"I did not foresee the way that events unfolded, but I could not leave Isis. I am sorry for causing you pain. It was not my intention." The dialogue that unfolded between them was eerily reminiscent of his mother's holovid collection.

"No, I don't imagine it was. I hope she's worth it, Spock. I hope things turn out well for you, but I don't see how I would fit into the picture. It just wouldn't work." Spock was special, and she would miss him, but the relationship was so new it hadn't gotten too serious yet. She could move on.

The next day this memo was released to the crew.

Perhaps some of you have seen Mr. Spock walking around with a young girl. The girl is his young first cousin. Her family was killed in the Narada attack. She is behind in development for a Vulcan because she is suffering from a lack of family bonds, a very real condition for young Vulcans. She has a strong bond with Mr. Spock, and on our recent trip to New Vulcan Mr. Spock was asked to be her caretaker. Her name is Isis and she is six years old. Mr. Spock is in the process of formally adopting her. Whether Mr. Spock and Isis can remain aboard the ship is still being discussed, but preliminarily I would say that there shouldn't be any problems. It is possible that if Spock is not permitted to raise Isis aboard the ship, he will leave us. You will be apprised of changes in his situation as we have knowledge of them. Thank you. –Captain James T. Kirk-


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N So, I kinda feel like this chapter sucks. Way to be confident, right? I've worked on it enough, though, that I feel like it's time to post. Many thanks for the kind reviews I got, especially to ZenaraTheDragon, who is somehow still reading this;) Thanks for saying you think I got Uhura right. I work hard on my characterizations, because that's something I sometimes have trouble with. Next chapter, unless I change my mind, will feature Bones and Jim plotting to set Spock up for the sake of Isis' adoption. It should have some funny dialogue. Oh, and italics means telepathic speech._

* * *

"Enter," Spock said.

The door opened revealing Nurse Chapel, who was smiling brightly, as usual. She paused a moment to look at the napping mass of fur on the bed, and her smile stretched even wider. "Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy asked me to give you this," she said, offering him a PADD, which he accepted curiously. "He also asked that you see him at your convenience," she finished. Spock then realized that her smile wasn't one of general cheerfulness; it had a decidedly mischievous feel. She knew something he didn't.

"Thank you, Nurse Chapel, I shall." Spock played the recorded message.

Spock- I know you haven't made a school curriculum for Isis yet, so until you do, why don't you send her down to Sickbay? We haven't been busy lately, and I'm sure the experience would be educational. Also, my nurses keep gossiping about Isis, and frankly, it would be nice if she came down to put their curiosity to rest. They haven't been at their most efficient lately. I'll have Chapel look after her when I can't myself. Anyways, Sickbay is open, should you decide to take me up on my offer- which you should, because it's the most logical option. McCoy out.

Spock absentmindedly wondered why there was so much speculation about Isis. Nurse Chapel had had the opportunity to speak with Isis extensively, and she wasn't known for being discreet. He then realized that Nurse Chapel knew all the particulars of Isis' situation, and she was bound not to share them. She probably found it simpler to not contribute to the gossip at all. He then wondered how often she had been in similar situations with other patients. Perhaps he didn't give her or the other nurses enough credit. They gossiped plenty, but they could be trusted with secrets. He approached Isis with the offer.

_"So can I go? Can I? Yes, yes? You know it will be fine_." Isis asked, waving her tail about frantically.

"_I shall defer to your judgment_," Spock replied amusedly, "_If you go, I would ask that you make a written list of ten things that you learned about._" Isis had already mastered the alphabet to about a second grader's level, due to her very sharp mind and the fact that, as she didn't have a school curriculum yet, Spock had focused her studies to language. She could speak Vulcan best, but she wrote better in Standard.

_Observations, how dull! I liked it better when all I did all day was play and sleep and eat and talked to you_, Isis thought. "_Do I get anything if I write more than ten?_"

"_If you write fifteen, I shall replicate a new pair of jeans for you in a different color._" What if she wrote fewer than ten? She really didn't have many privileges to revoke. What did Isis dislike, anyway? She seemed to like everyone and everything except for the captain. Ah, Jim. She didn't like anything remotely associated with Jim. "_If you write less than ten, you will be forced to eat an apple._"

"_That's not very nice_."

"_Perhaps not; I wish you an engaging time_."

"_I'll have a fantastic time_." And with that Isis prepared to go to Sickbay.

Isis looked adorable. She was wearing blue jeans with a small science-blues shirt and miniature boots with an oversized Earth-style jacket that was probably Spock's. The dark sleeves swallowed her arms, but Isis didn't seem to care. Was the temperature too cold for Isis, like it was for Spock?Christine was surprised Spock didn't just request a jacket in her size from the quartermaster. Her hair had been pulled back into a graceful French braid. Christine groaned, knowing that all the nurses would be commenting on Spock's ability to French braid hair for a week, at least. Isis was holding Spock's hand firmly, and her eyes eagerly surveyed everything around her. Christine walked up to Isis and smiled in greeting. "Hello Isis, you'll be following me around today."

"I guess so." Isis suddenly seemed withdrawn, although her eyes still shined. Christine supposed that Isis was startled by all the people in Sickbay. She was probably a little shy.

Christine reached for Isis' unoccupied hand, which Isis gratefully accepted, letting go of Spock's with her other. Isis gave Spock a significant look, which he returned. Christine realized they were probably speaking to each other telepathically. Whatever Spock had said did the trick, for after he left, Isis was suddenly more eager and curious. She still avoided contact with everyone besides Christine and Dr. McCoy, but Christine thought this had more to do with an introverted personality than with fear.

"Is that Spock's jacket?" the nurse asked.

Isis beamed. "Yes, he gave it to me. It was his grandfather's and it still smells like the farm. I really like the farm. It's so big! Also, all the bugs liked to stay by the house door where they threw out fruit skins, so I would hide behind the corner and catch them!" Isis smiled at the fond memory.

Ew. The conversation was steered to more Sickbay related topics after that. Christine made a mental note to talk to Spock. He needed to make a point of training Isis to be more guarded in her conversation. She really couldn't be telling just anyone that kind of thing.

Spock put Isis, who had returned to her feline form after her long day in Sickbay, to bed. He began to read her list, which she had left on his desk. Her hand writing was nearly illegible, but at least she had neatly aligned columns, and she had started a new line with each new observation.

Chistine's birthday is today.

She is twenty-three.

All the walls in Sick Bay are smooth and white and boring.

Tricarders scan people for spesific information.

They only show the results they were desined to register.

Dr. McCoy doesn't like tri-corders cause their dammed unrelible

Christine smells like cookies because a friend of hers from San Fracisko Californa sent her "Warm Vanila Brown Sugar" perfume.

Her friend's name is Barby.

Dr. McCoy thinks that's funny.

Christine thinks Dr. McCoy's name (Lenird) silly.

Lenird says he's a grouch until he's had his cofee.

Lenird is still grouchy when he's had his coffee, but Chistine says we should forgive bidder old men.

Nurses like to "gosip" a lot. (what's gosip?)

Dr. McCoy doesn't like nurses to gosip.

He has a terrible inside voice.

Spock sent Christine a message, while he was thinking about Isis' visit. Although Vulcans weren't in the habit of either apologizing or thanking, Spock's mother had seen to it that he could write a proper thank-you card, a skill which actually came in handy every so often. Even though the visit was Dr. McCoy's suggestion, Spock firmly refused to give the interfering man the satisfaction of having written proof that Vulcans can, when properly motivated, express thanks. He would be insufferable for weeks.

Christine went back to her quarters, feeling rather melancholy. Isis had made her day pass pleasantly, but now that she was alone in her quarters, she felt a little homesick. Her shift didn't match many of her friends' this week, and she was too tired to care much that her birthday went unobserved. Her job wasn't a piece of cake, and no one had told her it would be. Cake- birthday cake happened to sound amazing at that moment. Christine distracted herself from dessert-related thoughts by writing down some of the new things she had learned about Spock and Isis that day. Writing anything about Spock was pleasant, (she hadn't openly admitted to having a crush on him, yet. She preferred to call it an unhealthy preoccupation) but that wasn't the reason she bothered. She and Dr. McCoy had always kept close tabs on him, as on all the senior officers, for they were notoriously difficult when it came to Sickbay matters. A blackmail list was invaluable.

The soft glow of her computer informed her of a new message, distracting her from further thoughts. It was from Commander Spock, and she could almost hear his voice as she read.

Nurse Chapel, Isis very much enjoyed spending her day with you. There is something about you that she finds enchanting. It was kind of you to show her around and to watch her, as I know she can be rather distracting and you have a busy job, even when things in Sickbay are slow. This experience was beneficial to her knowledge of technology and the people around her. I appreciate you going out of your way to show her Sickbay and to put her at ease. You did an excellent job of both. I was told that today is you birthday; I wish you a happy one. -Commander Spock

Following was a line from Isis:

Dear Chistine, thanks for being my freind and talking to me today. I apreciated it alot.

Thank-you cards! She saved them, for the simple reason that her job was often thankless. Who knew when she would next get a thank-you card? Also, who knew Spock was so well-mannered? Did his mother teach him? She went to bed, feeling slightly less weary and homesick. Had the note been actually printed on paper, she probably would've clutched it to her chest or put it under her pillow, sentimental dope that she was. Just because Spock sent her a thank-you card, she didn't finish her list. She'd leave Dr. McCoy with the headache of getting him to cooperate in medical matters. His blackmail list of all the senior officers was pages long and written down in pen, in an inconspicuous file hidden in his office. He'd probably already written down everything Isis had contributed, anyway, scheming old man that he was.


End file.
